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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/28258227">Waiting Room</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/M_nancywheeler/pseuds/M_nancywheeler'>M_nancywheeler</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>His Dark Materials - Philip Pullman</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Drabble, Post-His Dark Materials</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-12-23</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-12-23</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-10 19:53:34</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>514</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/28258227</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/M_nancywheeler/pseuds/M_nancywheeler</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Mary Malone insisted. His case worker insisted. Then, his mum insisted. </p><p>Counseling.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Lyra Belacqua/Will Parry, mentioned</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>10</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Waiting Room</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Mary Malone insisted. His case worker insisted. Then, his mum insisted. </p><p>Counseling.</p><p> He needed a talking to. Well, fine, then. If that's what it took to get the lot of them off his back.</p><p>The waiting room was spare. Some chairs, old ladies' fashion magazines, and a secretary having a chat on the phone. </p><p>Will was the only patient, it seemed. He felt lonely. Even more than usual since Kirjava was waiting outside the offices.</p><p>Will's focus was only broken by the sound of his name. An older man, bespectacled and dressed smartly, was beckoning for Will to enter the therapy room. </p><p>"Parry, is it?" The therapist asked. </p><p>Will nodded, taking the hand the therapist, Dr. Lewis, extended as soon as Will walked over to meet him. </p><p>"Er, you can just call me 'Will,'" Will said as he shuffled awkwardly into the room.</p><p>"Will, it is, then. Take a seat, lad." Dr. Lewis said as he gestured to a seat that was sat directly across from another. Dr. Lewis took his seat in that chair. </p><p>Frankly, Will didn't know what to say. How could he? The things that bothered Will weren't like the things that bothered other people his age. His peers were worried about their exams, getting pissed, and moaning over someone they were seeing. Will did his own share of that, to be sure,  but it wasn't the same.</p><p>He had other problems to say the least.</p><p>"Not much of a talker, I see," Dr. Lewis said as he looked over the questionnaire that Will filled out in the waiting room. </p><p>Will nodded. "Not really. Just when I feel like it, I suppose."</p><p>"So, you'r having troubled sleep."</p><p>Will felt himself go hot. This experience was uncomfortable. "Yeah. A bit."</p><p>"How long has this irregular sleep been a problem?"</p><p>Will shrugged "Dunno. Maybe four years. It wasn't always so bad, but now..."</p><p>Dr.Lewis looked up at Will from the chart. "Have the patterns started to interfered with your life? Your grades?"</p><p>Will nodded. "Some. I'm still doing well. It's just harder to concentrate."</p><p>Dr. Lewis looked like he was forming some theory in his head. Will didn't like that. "You wrote that you're having unusual dreams. Can you describe them?"</p><p>Will felt his entire body go hot. "Alright. There's dreams where I'm caught in space, where I'm half of myself in another world, and others where I'm in a purgatory."</p><p>And he always dreamt of Lyra. What her pretty face and golden hair would look like now. If he could've brought her to this world. If he'd been free to spend his life in hers. </p><p>But, he always lost her in those dreams as he did in life. Still, those dreams always left him feeling disturbed and off balanced. As though he was living the same hurt over and over again. <br/>
He hated it. He hated sleeping. </p><p>Dr. Lewis' eyebrows were furrowed as he took in the details of Will's dreams. Finally, he asked, "And how does that make you feel?"</p><p>Will wanted to laugh. "I really don't even fucking know."</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>This is my first time writing Will! Though he's been one of my favorite characters for nearly twenty years. Any thoughts and feedback would be wonderful. Thank you for reading.</p></blockquote></div></div>
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